


Possessions Two

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:59:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair's turn.<br/>This story is a sequel to Possessions One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possessions Two

## Possessions Two

by Fire Frog

Author's webpage: <http://www.wn.com.au/firefrog/>

The Sentinel is the property of Pet Fly and UPN. All rights reserved. No infringement of copyright intended. No money changed hands. 

* * *

Blair stood at the fridge door, smiling greedily at the box of brownies Mrs Withers had pressed on him down the hall. About to take a large bite he heard the soft click of the front door and seconds later his lover materialized at his shoulder. 

Jim looked at the three remaining brownies in the box and helped himself to the two biggest ones. Mmmm, brownies. Yum. Inhaling deeply he enjoyed the rich chocolate aroma that had sent him racing up the hall into the loft, ready to wrestle his favorite treat away from Blair. 

Mmm, the second one was even better than the first. They were home made so Mrs Withers must have made them. (Blair was banned from baking in Jim's kitchen after the infamous "I thought they were raisins!" incident.) Smacking his lips he eyed the half of Blair's remaining brownie and let out a small, pathetic whine. 

Rolling his eyes Blair handed over the treat, watching in dismay as the detective gulped it down, then reached round him to open the fridge and search for more. 

"Say, Chief - they really would have gone better with milk. Why don't we have any?" 

Exasperated, Blair - keeper of the magic that restocked the fridge, all knowing oracle of the midnight Rice Crispy binges perpetrated by one Jim Elison, just stared at his partner. 

"oh." Said the detective with his best 'little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar' look. 

<sigh> Blair cocked his head in a ' _I_ would have liked some milk with _my_ one and a half brownies too' way. Jim got the hint. 

"I'll be right back, babe." He swooped down to plunder his lovers rich choclatey mouth (/Jim Elison, you better not be trying to lick out those crumbs in there! /) before swatting his mates delightful ass and trotting off to get the milk. 

Warily counting down, Blair gave his lover plenty of time to get to the truck, before pulling out the brightly coloured Tupperware box designated for 'Sandburg's disgusting offal fetish only'. Carefully removing the well wrapped top layer of boiled tongue, he revealed the six succulent brownies he had stashed beneath it moments before Jim's entrance. Going to the cupboard he recovered the carton of milk he'd brought on the way home, before meeting Mrs Withers and deciding that it would best serve his purposes to 'not' have purchased milk today. 

Smiling smugly at his cleverness Blair sprawled out on the couch, milk carton in one hand, brownies in the other, sports program of his choice on the TV. 

Wriggling to get comfortable he took a huge bite of brownie, a sip of milk and sighed contentedly. 

/Mine,/ he thought happily /all mine./ 

End 


End file.
